Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Senegal and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The Searchers to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Ten City. All the underground hits.
All Bluetip tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Silicon Teens record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mo-Dettes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacques Brel,
Curtis Mayfield,
Suicide,
Absolute Body Control,
Bill Wells,
Stiv Bators,
The Names,
Fatback Band,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bootsy Collins,
Boredoms,
Slick Rick,
Roy Ayers,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Yaz,
The Electric Prunes,
Siglo XX,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Pylon,
The Mummies,
Deepchord,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Kenny Larkin,
Los Fastidios,
The Dave Clark Five,
Eric B and Rakim,
cv313,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Scan 7,
Henry Cow,
Livin' Joy,
The Mojo Men,
DJ Sneak,
Roxette,
Boz Scaggs,
Stetsasonic,
Fat Boys,
Matthew Bourne,
Marshall Jefferson,
John Lydon,
OOIOO,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
the Slits,
Saccharine Trust,
Marmalade,
Black Pus,
Tres Demented,
The Leaves,
The Cowsills,
The Cure,
Stereo Dub,
Sixth Finger,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Angry Samoans,
Graham Central Station,
World's Most,
Mad Mike,
The Pop Group,
Wasted Youth,
E-Dancer,
Maurizio,
Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.